


Jangly Old Couch

by ReaderRose



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Character Study, Deja Vu, Existential Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Groundhog Day, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Instability, Post-Undertale Neutral Route, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Loop, Undertale Saves and Resets, Undyne-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderRose/pseuds/ReaderRose
Summary: Undyne gets deja vu a lot, and Papyrus is usually there, too. And so is that stupid couch.





	Jangly Old Couch

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old WIP that I finished up (slightly late) for Groundhog's Day.  
> Basically, just a character study of Undyne, and an idea. I think some of my headcanons have sort of shifted since I started this one, but I think it's good as is.
> 
> Warnings for a lot of issues, especially ones involving mourning and suicide.

Undyne sits upon a jangly old couch. She swears after a month of living here, the springs have dug their way right into her soul. There's probably a mark there. She swears she feels it. It itches and tears and makes every position just slightly uncomfortable. It's the worst couch in the world, and she's stuck on it.

It's just so easy to hate, and she needs it.

 

She's bored, and so is Papyrus, and it's kind of a running theme that both are bored out of their skulls. As usual, the treatment, prescribed by (the not officially licensed) Doctor Undyne herself: swearing vengeance upon the human. Papyrus always hesitates at first, but eventually he dives in just as deep as her. He follows her lead with enthusiasm. The human is his friend, but he'll still smacktalk like no other, because that's what Undyne wants to do, and she's the friend he has right now.

It's nice and comforting and makes him a great person to vent with.

But… It’s just as much a reminder that she made the right choice not to let him into the guard. Papyrus loses himself too easily under pressure. He's innocent and malleable and it's hard to tell the limits of how eager he is to fall into line in the hopes that she'll like him just that little bit more.

 

Undyne made good decisions as captain. She protected people.

But she's not the captain anymore and she's just too angry to care if she's poisoning Papyrus with that same hate she feels inside. It feels good to scream and yell and vent and it feels good to have a comrade on the front lines.

An equal!

Only Papyrus isn't an equal in this war of hers. He's just a footsoldier to her command,  and the front line is sitting on a lumpy green couch, complaining over MTT’s new shows about humanity and it's inherent goodness.

 

Papyrus loves Mettaton and Undyne hates Mettaton and together they both hate Mettaton, because Papyrus doesn't really have his own opinions anymore. His dream is dead, and her old life is dead, and he follows wherever she leads.

It leads nowhere in particular, just more anger without outlet.

But tonight, something is different, and he notices it before she does, but she does notice. Something is off.

For once, Papyrus leads, meekly shutting down another rant, and Undyne wants to resist, because she just feels so much anger inside, and she needs to get it out. But it never ends, and Papyrus looks serious, and she realizes she's been a pretty sour houseguest and a really shitty friend.

She relents, and lets him speak.

He looks around. He speaks quietly. Sans is out. It's just them. “DO YOU EVER SUDDENLY JUST FEEL A SENSE OF DEJA VU?”

“I don't know what that is,” she says with only a passing interest, mostly forced. She shouldn't be so bitter about a wasted opportunity to whine, but she is. Maybe she does know what the word means, but she doesn't care enough to try to remember.

“IT'S WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE YOU'VE ALREADY LIVED A MOMENT BEFORE, LIKE EVERYTHING IS FAMILIAR, EVEN THOUGH IT SHOULDN'T BE?”

Undyne shakes her head, but takes it as a commentary. He's sick of her rants, she realizes, and she admires that he bothered to say anything all.

She resolves to be a better friend and houseguest, and tries to cut back on the ranting and raving, but she's lost too much to stop being angry, and the efforts only last a week.

 

* * *

 

Undyne sits upon the throne. She's been the Empress for quite a while.

She is angry.

She is angry because she lost so much, and now she's in a job no one wants and no one else (but what is now a pile of dust) deserves. Undyne is no Asgore. She has none of his softness and not even half his strength. She wants nothing more badly than for him to walk back into the chamber and take the crown away.

The Empress knows this is impossible.

She hopes it each day and dreams it each night.

Papyrus stands watch in the throne room with her. It's the safest place she can think of to keep him. She's protecting him from himself. The position of captain is unfilled. She worries he wants it. She won't let him have it.

It isn't a job meant for him.

She had thought calling this the “Most Important Royal Position” would appeal to him. He always liked to be liked and he always admired anything that made him feel admired. He liked to feel important; that was a constant. She’d thought it was a good fit, or that it would at least placate him. She expected advice or ramblings about puzzles or the latest episodes of MTT. She expected noise and boasting and enthusiasm.

That isn't what she got.

The throne room is silent as always between the two of them. Papyrus looks so serious. He might have made a good guard. Not a Guard, but certainly a guard. She tries to start a conversation, but inevitably it turns to the crimes of humanity and the glorious war she promises.

He’s quiet. He nods along with a hum or an acknowledgement, but he has nothing to add. He doesn't talk as much anymore, not since the argument. He called her scary, but it wasn't a compliment like it used to be. She'd yelled. Some magic may have flown, spears and bones and unfocused, undirected rage. He'd held his own long enough to tire her. She'd half apologized, and he'd half accepted, and they both agreed silently to never speak of it again.

Papyrus's shift ends, and his posture sags. He looks more and more like Sans every day.

He regards her like he wouldn't while he was on the clock, with a head tilt, and asks a question. It's the first conversation not about revenge or humanity's inherent traits they have had in a month.

“DO YOU EVER FEEL A SUDDEN SENSE OF DEJA VU?”

“Every day,” she replies snidely, hoping he gets the hint, wishing he could just go back to being her friend.

She sees his expression fall. He never smiles anymore.

Maybe she's been hoping for a lackey instead of a friend.

She’s suddenly uncomfortable. She can feel the springs in the throne poking into her at weird angles, and when Papyrus finally leaves, she gets up to stretch her legs.

The throne does not have springs.

 

* * *

 

Undyne sits upon the throne, generally, but not today. A planned diplomatic meeting between her and the former queen brings her to the Ruins door, and like the rumors said, she finds herself face to face with an old friend in new clothing.

Papyrus is wearing a tunic. It's been tailored to fit, but it's more than a little strange to see him dressed so plainly like that. It is a far cry from the battle body.

Things are tense. He's happy to see her, but he squirms wherever she tries to discuss the state of affairs or permanently opening the ruins to guard patrol. He tells her the queen won't do it, and he calls her that. The queen. No modifiers, no first names.

 

Her calls the exiled woman “The Queen.”

He calls The Empress, The Spear Of Justice, The Protector of all Monsters “Undyne.”

The Empress lets it slide, but only because he was once her friend.

 

He talks her into going to his house, and she's annoyed that they can't discuss this in the Ruins or with the disgraced former monarch, but she accepts because she's not in the mood for shows of force today. If she can convince Papyrus, maybe he can convince the Queen. And it has never been hard before, to convince Papyrus of things.

So Undyne sits on the jangly old couch, taking note of all the signs the normally fussy monster has not cleaned in a while. According to the dogs, the skeletons all but moved into the Ruins. It seems they were right.

Papyrus makes tea and it's weak and a little too sweet. He never used to make tea like that; it always used to be much worse. Someone's been giving him lessons, she realizes with some bitterness. Better lessons than hers. He offers her pie, and she declines. She's not here for sweets, she's here for a discussion.

The discussion doesn't go well.

She sighs.

She hadn't expected the human’s mind control grip to be so strong. That's… gotta be it. The queen was too weak, and so was Papyrus, and they both fell for the oldest human trick in the book. He may not realize he's another victim, but whether he knows it or not, this war is for him, too. Once it's over and the war is won, he'll finally be free. He'll finally realize what a spell he was under. She'll finally have her friend back.

Until then, she supposes it's a good thing he turned down the job she'd offered.

He's compromised.

She gives up for now and starts to wind down the conversation. It's tense and the rift between them is obvious, but she still wants to be polite, no matter how frustrating being here is. On the other hand, the throne room is silent and unpleasant and she can still smell the dust there, so maybe she isn't in any hurry.

She accepts another cup of tea, and this one is satisfyingly worse than the last, scalded and bitter and strong, just how she taught him, once.

When he brings it back, he looks at her, confused, and she thinks maybe something is breaking through to him. She almost gets her hopes up.

“DO YOU EVER FEEL A SUDDEN SENSE OF DEJA VU?” he asks, sounding both a little more like himself and a little less.

“No,” she says, and the feeling of deja vu is overwhelming.  


* * *

 

Undyne lies on the jangly couch and tries to imagine being somewhere else.

She lives here now. She's lived here for a few weeks now. Or maybe it's been a few months. She's not sure. She's grateful for the place to stay.

Sans gave her a job. She hates it. She used to be the captain of the royal guard, but she wasn't needed, and she couldn't save the person who needed her. She was a terrible captain. A terrible friend. She deserves a job she hates, and it marks the time, if nothing else.

Papyrus mostly tries to talk to her. He talks about revenge, ridiculous plots to break through the barrier and beat them up but she can't. She wouldn't. If it could bring Asgore back, Alphys back, she would break and cross ten thousand barriers. She would break reality itself if it could help that goal.

But she can't. And she's too tired to think about it. She's not sure what she's running on, these days, because it's not hope, and it's not determination.

Maybe it's just leftover strength. If so, it'll wear out. She wonders when.

Papyrus tries to encourage her. Papyrus tries to bargain and coax her into doing something different, something new. He offers her a spot on the couch forever, if she needs it. He offers to take the couch instead. He suggests they rebuild the old house and she assumes he's making idle promises until he shows up with lumber, nails, and a hammer and she tells him she's sorry she hasn't left yet. He reiterates that she is welcome and she doesn't really so much accept as she does not know how to make a decision at all, so she stays on the couch and he starts to build another room. She tells him not to, and he ends up yelling when he says he _wants_ to.

The brothers both try to help her, but Undyne doesn't feel like she's earned it. She doesn't deserve to be helped when she was so unable to help the people who mattered to her. It's a matter of fairness, and this is unfair.

But she doesn't have the energy to leave, and so she just feels guilty instead.

She skips work for a day, or two, or maybe longer, or maybe weeks. She isn't sure, and she doesn't want to add it up. Sans never comments on the missed days, merely praises her work when she does show up. She doesn't usually deserve the praise, and she sees what he's doing. Papyrus sometimes comments, but lately he hasn't. He still tries to do things together, but he's slowly backing off. Undyne isn't sure if she's meant to feel happy or sad about that, so she just feels nothing.  


Papyrus joins her on the couch one afternoon, (or maybe it's evening, or maybe it's night). He tells her the room is almost ready, and she nods, but says little. He tells her he is going to buy her a bed so comfortable she'll never want to leave it, but then he stumbles on the words and turns a shade of silent she doesn't recognize on him. Maybe he realizes his words may very well come true.

Undyne doesn't offer much response. She's tired. She's also not sure she wants to leave the couch, even for a room with a door that she can hide herself behind. Something about the couch feels right, feels just.

It feels like punishment.

It feels like she's been on that couch forever, in a million different lives, in a million different versions of herself, and all of them are miserable and being poked by the same damn spring that broke the day before everything ended.

Papyrus suddenly looks even more uncomfortable, and he looks as if he has something to say, something to ask.

Undyne knows what her friend will ask her, and Papyrus knows the answer will be denial, and so they share a look of knowing, and sit in silence.

Papyrus hesitates when he goes to get up sometime later. “MAYBE MOVING TO THE ROOM WILL BE SOMETHING DIFFERENT. PLEASE TRY?” he asks in a small voice before leaving her alone to consider.

Undyne doesn't make a decision. She stays on the couch by default.

 

* * *

 

Undyne finishes up a day at the lab. More accurately, she finishes up a day of going to the lab, discovering they aren't working today, and trying to occupy her time with something else instead. She wants to keep Alphys close, but Alphys is shy. Reclusive. She doesn't respond to texts sometimes, and some days she just cancels work, like today. It's scary.

Undyne remembers the waterfall where she met Alphys. Sometimes she goes there, on days when Alphys isn't “feeling well”. She finds her there, and sometimes she joins her, and they state into the abyss together for a while, and try to figure out where it might go. Some days, she’s more than a little pushy about bringing her away from the edge.

Some days she feels like she would only be intruding. She sends a text with a cute emoji, and hopes a “you're my favorite person!” message is enough. Or never feels like enough, but Alphys is still here.

It feels like a miracle.

Today she doesn't have work– it's a text day– so it's back to the bros’ place. She's staying in their couch until her house is fixed back up. She's kind of anxious for it.

The couch is jangly and uncomfortable and pokes into her sides and her soul and it feels like something else entirely.

And the longer she stays, the more often she has to see Papyrus wearing _that._

She wishes she could say the uniform doesn't fit him, but it does. The title does, too. Captain Papyrus. And for watering flowers all day, the steel is always gleaming and spotless. He keeps it better than she ever did, and that becomes the sticking point. It should have dents and scraps and patches! He should be strong! Fighting! Fearless!

But they aren't supposed to be thinking about fighting, and neither has time to spar anymore.

Papyrus is always a little awkward when he comes in and she's laying on the couch like this, still in her pajamas. He gets this look on his face, and the armor suits him, the title suits him, but the expression definitely doesn't.

“Man, Papyrus, you ever get a sudden feeling of deja vu?”

He laughs, kind of nervous, kind of relieved?

“I THINK THAT'S MY LINE!”

She knows it is.

 

* * *

 

 

Undyne can't sit on that fucking throne anymore. It's not where she belongs. It's Asgore’s. She's not even sure they removed all the dust, and it feels wrong to do it, even. Like, wouldn't that be his favorite thing? Or maybe not, because she knows what ruling is like, now, but she hates it. She doesn't want to sit there, ever. It's uncomfortable and jangly and wrong and the other throne is even wronger.

She keeps the dust in a jar. She'll spread him over the flowers of the surface, underneath the sun, when the war comes, and they reign victorious over the land. That's what he would have loved. It has to be.

That's the plan. That is the plan. Asgore. Alphys. Papyrus. They all deserve the sun itself, and she will find a way to give it to them, even if she couldn't before they… they…

She had to fight Sans for the dust. He didn't want to give it up. Said Papyrus wouldn't want this. Didn't want this. But what did he know? Not a thing. And she was the empress. She made the rules.

Sometimes Sans stops in to visit. That was the deal, and she lets him, but it's always deathly silent when he comes. She can't talk to them with him here.

 

He stays a while, regards the jars of dust and ashes, and when he finally leaves, today, he turns to her and speaks.

“you ever… uh… get a sense of deja vu? ya know, like, feeling like you been in the moment before? things like that?”

For some reason, hearing those words from his mouth send an awful taste through hers.

Leaving in silence is her reply. When she comes back in, he's long gone.

“I feel it every day, Papyrus.”

 

* * *

 

 

Undyne screams, and lobs another spear at Papyrus's head, and he dodges, effortlessly.

He's getting good at this.

He's nearly ready to kill a human. She really thinks maybe he'd do it. Maybe not _that one,_ though, and _that's_ the one one he has to kill.

Because they did this. They betrayed them both. They gave her, and him, their friendship, but it was a lie. It was all a lie. And while she was encouraging them, hosting for them, supporting them, they were… there were evil all along, and she let herself get tricked. Papyrus, too. She was too naive. He was too naive.

They both needed to buckle down. They needed to change. They needed to harden up. Be tough! Be freaking soldiers, not just pushovers!!!

They let themselves be defeated and used and betrayed and left hurt and mourning and hopeless in the dark. Undyne let herself be guilty. She let them hurt people! She let them kill because she gave them mercy and allowed them to continue through. With her friendship. With her support.

But it was all bullshit. It was all just a lie.

She was stupid and silly and too kind and so naive, and there was only one way to fix it. Only one way to make it right.

She needs to destroy them.

It doesn't matter what the queen said. It doesn't matter what her former subordinates said. It doesn't matter, because she needs this. And Papyrus needs it, too. He needs to be tough. He needs to be strong. He needs to understand that not everyone is his friends, just because they say they are.

And he needs to “HIT HARDER!!!!”

“YOU'VE HAD TOO MUCH!!!”

Undyne growls, locks him into place, ensures that the only way around this is to stop her before she launches the attack.

He can't trust her to stop before it reaches him.

(She doesn't even trust herself)

She fires the spears. He summons the blaster. It's not a special attack anymore. There's no saving it for later. When battling humans, you have to take every advantage, and she's glad he's learning to call it early, and none of that bullshit about “losing it.”

He's right, too. She can't take it. There's a good chance his attack will bottom out her HP. His control isn't what it used to be. Control isn't important. It's just a weakness to temper strength on purpose.

But Undyne can survive it. She knows it! She knows she can survive! She feels it. Remembers it! It felt like a million years, being as one, and if she just pushes herself harder, makes Papyrus push her harder… she can do anything!

The blast comes, and Undyne is hyped. Ready! She'll be strong! She'll atone!

 

 

But after she regains her vision, she finds herself no different. No worse for the wear, and no more or less powerful than she was 5 minutes ago. Just…. Heavier.

“YOU'RE BLUE NOW! THAT'S MY ATTACK!”

She realizes. The blaster was for show. It was just cover fire while he disarmed and weighted her.

Because he didn't want to hurt her.

 

She comes crashing back to reality. Back to what she's doing. Back to what she's trying. And she's so proud of him. And she's so angry at him. And she's so sore, and she's not going to become some sort of God if someone kills her. She's just going to freaking die.

What was she thinking?

Is she losing her mind?

 

The anger returns while she sits on the jangly old couch, extra force of gravity making the springs dig that much deeper into her. She licks her wounds and tries to decide what comes next.

Papyrus brings her cheesy fries and offers them in “apology.” She's not really sure what he's apologizing for, and she doesn't think he knows, either.

Once her HP is restored, so is her clarity. He really did do a number on her before that non-finishing blow. Maybe he's not ready to kill a human. But she's probably not, either. And she's not sure why she was so sure she could survive that, earlier.

“Do you ever get a feeling–”

“OF DEJA VU?”

They both laugh nervously. Undyne tries to make Papyrus try a cheesy fry to lighten the mood, and it works.

Well, he doesn't eat the fry, but it works.

 

...but only for today.

The next day, she pushes him harder. And harder. And harder.

And it feels kind of like deja vu.

 

* * *

 

Undyne sits on the edge of a waterfall, because she can't sit on that couch another minute, and there has to be something else out there.

 

The water is cold, and that's how she likes it. It's soothing and smooth, and it cradles her. Comforts her. Calls her in closer. And she thinks about going.

Why not?

 

She hears the footsteps behind her, splashing and uneven. His boots are too big. They aren't made to be waterproof. They squelch and stomp and break the wonderful ambiance, no matter how much he's trying to be calm and quiet. They're naturally loud people. She knows it's hard.

It used to be hard for her to be so quiet, but she's running really low on reasons to be louder. She can't scream loud enough to make these feelings go away, and she can't move on. It doesn't matter how many rooms Papyrus builds. It never gets easier. Never. Never.

But it's time for a talk, she guesses, because that's what always comes here now. They “talk.” They dance around the issues and then they stop talking. Nothing ever happens. It all just goes on forever.

And ever… and ever…. And it's getting annoying.

Let's talk.

 

“I had a dream I followed her,” she says, and doesn't face him. “I jumped right in after her. I wanted to see where she was going, and we fell, and fell, and fell. But I woke up before I hit the bottom.”

Papyrus leans forward a bit. He's sitting on the edge with her, and that motion… it scares her for a second. He wouldn't. He would never. But…

He's trying to face her, she realizes. That's all. She doesn't want him leaning anymore than he is, so she turns to look at him. Even though she doesn't really want to.

“I HAD THAT SAME DREAM ONCE. NOT THE FALLING. NOT… ME. BUT… BUT I DIDN'T WAKE UP EARLY. IT KEPT GOING. AND IT WAS VERY SAD… BECAUSE I MISSED YOU VERY MUCH, UNDYNE.”

Maybe that should hit her harder.

It doesn't. Maybe she's too far gone.

 

“Alphys thought there was another world down there, somewhere else. Where do you think it leads?”

“I’D RATHER TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE…”

“C'mon Papyrus. We're just talking. Seriously. Just tell me. I need to know.”

Papyrus looks pained, but he answers, drained and tired. “I DON'T THINK IT GOES ANYWHERE. JUST... DOWN.”

She laughs. It's hOllow, and she isn't sure why she laughs. It's just the honesty, she guesses. Papyrus usually isn't very direct when he's feeling cynical or pessimistic, but the years most be wearing on him. Well, they would wear on anyone, and they do.

“You know where I think that hole leads to?”

“WHERE?”

“Right back to your shitty, broken couch.”

It's his turn for the hollow laughter, but it blooms into something a little bit bitter, and a little bit sweeter when she joins him. And they laugh, and hang on to each other at the end of the falls, and she feels just a little bit better about leaving the edge.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus stands with 12 boxes above his head, and Undyne stands with 14. Together they can move an entire house in a single trip! And they're totally gonna! Because they're moving to the surface!

 

Undyne's house is literally toast, so she's helping the bros move instead of doing her own stuff. It's fun. A challenge!

The only thing left to move once they get these boxes out of here is that ugly green couch.

“Hey, Papyrus, are you like…married to the couch or anything?”

“UNDYNE WHY THE HECK WOULD I MARRY A COUCH???”

“I mean, do you really need it?”

“DO YOU WANT IT?”

“NO! I want to burn it!”

“OH!”

And she's not really sure why she wants that. She just knows she really, really does. It's uncomfortable and jangly and ugly and old and she wants to see it burn more than anything.

“...CAN WE ROAST MARSHMALLOWS OVER IT?”

 

When they get back, that's exactly what they do. It's fun. And it's dumb, but something about seeing that stupid thing burn makes her so, so happy. Like a great evil has finally been defeated. Like an end to something terrible.

“Hey, Papyrus, you ever hear of deja vu?”

“... YES?”

“What's the opposite of that, called? Because that's what I'm feeling right now.”

“I DON'T KNOW! BUT IT FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME I'VE FELT IT IN A VERY LONG TIME!!”

“Same!!!”

 

The future tastes like marshmallows and burning things that likely aren't meant to be burned, but there's a feeling of relief as it does, like a thorn being pulled out of her spine, or a spring being pulled out of her soul.

Undyne sits upon the cold floor of an empty house she feels like she's spent eons in, by the light of a fire, hanging out with her best friend and sending “I love you” texts to her girlfriend, and thinking about all the tea she'll drink with Asgore, and how she'll teach the kid how to pull off a proper suplex.

 

She feels like it won't last.

It's that uncomfortable feeling. That deja vu that never seems to resolve itself, even now, but sometimes a good ending is worth slogging through the rough parts. At least, that's what she needs to believe.

Papyrus dares her to stuff as many marshmallows in her mouth as she can, and she rises up to the challenge.

 

She eats marshmallows. She drinks tea. She watches a thousand new shows.

She makes plans. She buys a ring.

 

Undyne hopes the next time around will be just as nice and long as this one. She's not sure what she means, but she kind of understands anyway.

 


End file.
